


shared space

by sapphicirene



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:54:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15855708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicirene/pseuds/sapphicirene
Summary: Seungwan needs a new roommate, and Joohyun is searching for an apartment. Joohyun wonders if it's bad luck or fate that draws her back to Seungwan after all these years.





	1. Chapter 1

Joohyun stared at her computer screen, her brows knitted in frustration and the round frames of her glasses scooted down on the bridge of her nose. She nervously tapped the pad of each finger to her thumb in rapid succession as she read the ad in front of her.

 

_Looking For a New Roommate~_

 

_Hi,_

 

_My old roommate moved out, as she wanted to pursue her Masters at a different college… I’ll be continuing my studies at [X] University, so I was hoping my prospective roomie would also be a fellow grad student! :D_

 

_You’d have a private room, and some communal living spaces as well. I’m rather tidy and quiet, and I’m not really too picky when it comes to roommates._

 

_I’m more than willing to bake some housewarming cookies if you’re interested, so give me a call and maybe we can iron out the details!_

 

_XX XXXX XXXX :)_

 

Irene stopped playing with her fingers, and instead massaged them on her left temple. Her other hand was busy rapping a pen on the table. She had been staring at this ad for far too long, dissecting it even. It was obviously written by a woman, and a rather considerate one at that. It seemed like she was deceptively aware of what she was searching for in a roommate, though. Joohyun saw right through the diction of the ad, and she liked it.

 

So she sat, for hours, in the school’s library, drumming up the courage to either call the woman or reply to the ad on the website. She had watched the guys at the table next to her start and finish a small report before she had even made an attempt.

 

Irene was no outsider to the library, in most cases she spent most of her days in the back corner, her laptop plugged into the outlet in the wall, and a large coffee placed on the corner of her desk. She often brought an extra coffee for the rather ancient and brooding librarian. Irene wasn’t sure why, but the woman would shoo away other students, letting Irene work in peace. Joohyun, always polite, would shoot her a relieved and thankful smile, to which the woman always responded with a curt nod.

 

Being a double major wasn’t easy, and Irene was more than grateful for the old librarian that seemingly had an eye out for her. It was comforting, especially because Irene practically lived at the library at this point. She only went to her dorm for the necessities, opting to avoid her rather obnoxious roommate. It wasn’t that Joohyun was intolerant of others being loud (she was), she just preferred quiet, non-confrontational surroundings.

 

So here she was, looking at the same ad she had been looking at for the past 48 hours, which seemed to be mocking her at this point. She _really_ needed to find an apartment soon. The end of the semester was rearing its ugly head, and Irene followed suit with her obscene lack of uptake in physical appearance. Exams were grating on her, and so was the unnecessary stress of finding new living arrangements. More often than not, she trudged out of her dorm with messy hair in a bun, and smudged eyeliner staining her face like a charcoal sketch. The only thing she really cared about at this point was finding a new place to live before she was forced to camp in the back of the library for the remainder of her university life.

 

She sighed, squeezing the pen in her hand before putting it down, and packing up her belongings. It was rather late at night, but she figured she should sleep sometime after all. She checked the time on her watch, 11:34. She exhaled loudly as she hastily shoved her laptop and notebooks into her backpack. She waved a goodbye to the librarian, shouldering her rather heavy belongings as she walked out of the warmth of the library.

 

She pulled out her phone (the ad plastered on that screen, too) and stared at the number. She hastily typed it in with trembling fingers. It wasn’t cold, really, but Joohyun got nervous walking alone at night, and she had forgotten her cardigan in the library. Another excuse to go back there tomorrow, anyway.

 

She lifted the phone to her ear, waiting for a woman to pick up the phone. Unsurprisingly, the call went to voicemail, and a rather cheery voice blared from the phone. Irene jumped and thrusted the phone from her ear, shocked by the sudden outburst.

 

“Hi! You’ve reached- Well I guess you haven’t reached me right?” an awkward laugh interrupts the woman’s honey-sweet voice. “Anyways, this is Seungwan, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!”

 

Irene furrows her brows in befuddled amusement. What an odd woman. She couldn’t help but think the voice sounded familiar, unsettlingly so.

 

The beep of the voicemail alerts Irene to begin talking, but the chatters of her teeth and the sheer nerve of _finally_ calling the woman had gotten the better of her usually nonchalant tone.

 

“U-Uh hi this is uh..” she paused. “Fuck sorry, uh.” She hung up the phone and groaned in frustration.

 

 _God, you’re such a fucking dolt._ She thought to herself, redialing the number and steeling herself to leave an actual response this time.

 

The same message played, and Irene couldn’t help but feel detached upon hearing it. The woman’s voice was calming, but in a way that irked her. No one was that kind. Not to her, anyway. There was a reason she ignored her roommates, actively avoided conversation with strangers, and turned down the lines upon lines of male suitors that never seemed to get the hint. The woman’s saccharine voice filled her with an equal concoction of bitterness and envy, curious as to how she seemed so bubbly and sure of herself from a 5 second voicemail snippet. Irene was _definitely_ interested in the apartment.

 

“Hi.. Sorry for the last voicemail, I’m walking outside and it’s kinda cold. Anyway, I was interested in the roommate vacancy. This is Joohyun. Call me back, or text me, at your soonest convenience, thanks. YY YYYY YYYY.”

 

She hung up the phone for a final time. She stared at the numbers that seemed to burst from the small screen and taunt her. Why was she so drawn to this unknown woman that made her so unreasonably exasperated, and a tad bit uneasy?

 

She had made it home safely, grumbling when she passed the coat rack and remembered her accidentally discarded cardigan. She rolled into bed, not even bothering to change her clothes, before she fell asleep.

 

…

 

Irene awoke in a cold sweat. Uneasy, and tired, she found that her roommate was out for the day. It was later than Irene usually got up, 10:30. She sighed, rubbing her eyes.

 

The woman’s voice would not leave her head. The sickly sweet laugh ghosting her ears. There was something eerily recognizable about the woman— Seungwan’s— voice. Irene dragged her feet to the bathroom, and stared at the witch-like woman looking back at her.

 

The black bags under her eyes were almost as heavy as her shoulders, sagging with the weight of finals week.

 

 _Maybe I could use some home-baked cookies.._ she muses, wiping away the tarnished makeup from the day before off of her face.

 

She started the shower, warm steam coating her face. While she waited for the water to heat to her liking, she went to retrieve her phone from the other room. She picked it up, not expecting anything (as usual), but her notifications were flooded with messages from an unsaved number.

  
The same number she had feebly dialed last night.

 

**_XX XXXX XXXX_ **

_Hi! This is Seungwan_

 

**_XX XXXX XXXX_ **

_But you knew that.._

 

**_XX XXXX XXXX_ **

_I, Uh I hope it’s okay with you but I’d like to meet_

_But first some basic conditions of course…_

 

**_XX XXXX XXXX_ **

_I tend to have people over a bit, if that’s okay_

 

(It wasn’t.)

 

**_XX XXXX XXXX_ **

_I also like to play guitar and sing, I’m a music major!_

 

(How unfortunate.)

 

(She had saved the woman’s number as “Apartment Woman; Seungwan”)

 

**_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ **

_Ah anyways! Sorry for blowing up your phone… meet at mine at 6 tonight?_

 

(Whatever.)

 

Irene couldn’t exactly place what was so annoying about the woman, her positivity to a fault, or the fact that she still seemed familiar. Irene didn’t let herself think about it too much.

 

**_Me_ **

_Okay._

 

Irene placed her phone back on the counter, the steamy tendrils of warmth from her shower beckoning her in like a siren. She inhaled, and felt the thick air fill her lungs. It was a nice feeling. She was walking towards the room when her phone buzzed, and she stopped in her tracks. She sighed and picked up her phone.

 

**_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ **

_Awesome! I’ll have cookies waiting for you then. :)_

 

Irene smirked. She thought of warm cookies as she entered the humidity of her bathroom, the tepid steam hugging her now nude body like an old friend. Maybe things were looking up.

 

...

 

Irene held the overly heavy literature book to her chest as she walked to the library. It was nice out today, a light spring breeze in the air, and small traces of flowers aching to flourish. Irene loved spring. Maybe she was biased, being born in March, but there was something about new beginnings and the scent of mowed grass and the emergent blooms of flowers that made her heart swell.

 

And even better, the library was quiet too. Irene smiled inwardly as she placed her book and backpack on her signature corner table, settling in for the remainder of the day. Her cardigan, thankfully, was untouched from the night before, hung on the back of the chair. She was planning to work on her lit write-up, and maybe do some light research on the area around the apartment. It couldn’t do any harm.

  
She was surprisingly energetic today, perhaps spurred on by the very peculiar woman that had reminded her of home in a weird way. Perhaps she was grasping for straws, but Joohyun had took an instant shining to the woman with seemingly annoying tendencies. She tried not to think about that.

 

Ever since Irene had gotten to college, she had been on self-inflicted thin ice. She tried not to think about her little sister at home.

 

(That was the kind of thinking that hurt.)

 

Irene preferred to drown her slip ups in more school work, hence the double major. She liked literature, found solace in it. She envied the author’s way of weaving tales together, painting an elaborate schema of mental images and raw emotion that was unmatched by any pitiful thing she had seen in real life. Her second major was in accounting, less of a passion, more of a creature comfort. She liked the constancy of numbers. Nothing could go wrong, nothing was open to interpretation. Nothing to think about, just simple calculations.

 

Joohyun flipped open to the tabbed page in her literature book, squinting at the small words on the page. The task at hand was to analyze a short poem. Irene opened her new highlighters (she purchases new stationery sometimes to motivate her to be more productive) and starts reading through the poem.

 

It’s short, and not particularly interesting to Irene.

 

_I met a traveller from an antique land,_

_Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone_

_Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,_

_Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,_

_And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,_

_Tell that its sculptor well those passions read_

_Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,_

_The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;_

_And on the pedestal, these words appear:_

_My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;_

_Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!_

_Nothing beside remains. Round the decay_

_Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare_

_The lone and level sands stretch far away.”_

 

Irene frowns at the concise nature of the poem. She prefers literature with deep symbolism, extended metaphors. Not whatever this was.

 

She highlighted the words _half sunk a shattered visage lies_. She thought the lack of intense diction was interesting, like it highlighted how unimportant the statue was. Forgotten and alone, broken and buried. She highlighted more lines in the poem.

 

_“Boundless and bare”_

 

_“The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.”_

 

She reached for her iced coffee, eyes not leaving the book. A shaky hand attempted to bring the straw to her mouth, a furrowed brow giving away the intense focus inscribed on her face. Her hand trembled just a _bit_ more because of the frigidity of the ice, and condensation droplets fell onto the words that Irene was so futilely trying to analyze.

 

“Oh goddamnit..” she trailed off, blowing short breaths on the page in a weak attempt to dry her mess. She sighed loudly, and shut the book in frustration. She booted up her laptop, and pulled out her phone to double check the address.

 

She unlocked her phone, and frowned at the unexpected message.

 

**_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ **

_Hi again! Are you allergic to anything?_

 

**_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ **

_Because I’m making cookies.._

 

 **_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ ** **_  
_ ** _Oh my god that sounds so creepy I’m sorry, but yeah anyway, are you allergic to anything_

 

How did this woman manage to be so annoying, but also so caring? Irene squinted to read the messages, and saw the three dots in the corner of her screen disappear once she had opened the chat. Irene chuckled at the nervousness of the woman, and couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her.

 

**_Me_ **

_No.._

 

**_Me_ **

_They better be good_

 

Irene figured the least she could do was tease the clearly anxious woman, and hoped her messages didn’t come off as blunt as they seemed.

 

The three dots immediately reappeared.

 

**_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ **

_They will be! I promise_

 

**_Apartment Woman; Seungwan_ **

_I mean no one’s actually complained about them before..._

 

The three dots remained at the bottom of the screen as Irene opened the chat to respond.

 

**_Me_ **

_Don’t stress it Pillsbury dough girl, I’m sure they’ll be fine_

 

Irene snorted at her own comment, and also at the way the three dots miraculously disappeared once she had sent her message. Seungwan was a lot more fun to tease than Seulgi, that’s for sure. She looked at the address in their earlier messages, and typed it in carefully to the open search engine on her laptop.

 

The neighborhood was close to the school. Convenient. The apartment complex was also gated, a nice surprise for the price that Seungwan had posted. Irene hummed in approval, clicking through the supplied pictures from the home association. She’s still not sure how she got so lucky with this all, an uneasy pit settled in her stomach at the thought.

 

Irene finished scrolling through all the pictures, and reluctantly returned to analyzing her poem. She got deep into her work, almost finishing the supplemental essay, before realizing how much time had passed. She cleaned up all of her belongings, and walked out of the library to gussy up for her “roommate appointment.”

 

…

 

Irene had put her black locks in a high ponytail, and worn comfortable clothes that screamed “I’m homey, and personable, but also nonchalant about my looks and ‘I’m a chill person- I promise.’” She had spent a while getting ready, needless to say.

 

She punched in the code to the gates of her (hopefully) future home, and watched anxiously as the gates swung open painfully slowly.

 

 _Jesus, can’t these things open any faster?_ She thinks, tapping her steering wheel restlessly. It would help if her radio was working, so she could listen to some music to soothe her nerves, but along with most of the amenities in her clanky old car, lovingly named Lou, the radio was broken beyond repair.

 

Irene hummed to distract herself, pressing the gas pedal tentatively as she took her first glances around the community. It was pristine, an odd beacon of warmth in the otherwise dingy suburbs surrounding it. Lakes in the middle of the community sparkled their welcome, and Irene smiled, spotting the porches attached to most of the apartments.

 

She could already picture herself sitting on the porch, watching the seasons change. What a delight.

 

A blaring car horn shook Irene out of her domestic stupor. Apparently, she had stopped in the middle of the road to gawk at the buildings. She scowled and threw a quick middle finger to her rearview mirror, and drove to the back of the community, where Seungwan had indicated her address was.

 

Irene pulled into the marked “guest” spot carefully, and turned off her car. A few pathetic coughs of exhaust indicated the car had shut off, the loud wheezes harmonizing with the incessant clicking of the engine. After finding an apartment, the next thing Irene needs to find is a reliable mechanic.

 

She pulled down the sun visor, and adjusted some loose strands of hair before putting it back up, and getting out of her car. She walked silently up to the second floor apartment, the only noises heard being the clanking of her heels on linoleum.

  
She approached unit 210, and knocked three times. She looked at the rainbow flag on the door curiously, this woman was brave to be displaying her pride so blatantly.

 

 _Get out of here, you fucking dyke! You aren’t welcome here anymore. Don’t bother contacting us EVER again._ The voice echoed in her head as she stared at the flag. She felt sick. She tried her best to repress those memories, but the most obscure things would trigger her remembrance. She was shaken out of her stupor by the creak of the opening door.

 

This _had_ to be a joke. Irene’s fists balled at her sides, and her eyes seemed to bulge out of her head. Anger and disgust churned in her stomach, and her brows furrowed at the sight in front of her. She stood, planted to the ground in disbelief, as her eyes sized up the rather short and admittedly beautiful woman in front of her. Irene felt a bubble of panic and rage bubble up in her throat. No wonder Seungwan had seemed so familiar.

 

“Irene?” The woman said, clearly just as incensed as Joohyun felt.

 

“Wendy??” she mimicked, the name searing off the end of her tongue with a growl.

 

The two women stood and glared at each other, neither one daring to say a word.

 

Of course it would be Irene’s luck that her high school crush, the one that outed her and got her kicked out of her home, would be the same one offering a deal she couldn’t resist.


	2. Chapter 2

Irene stood in shock, still unable to react to Wendy. Her knuckles were going white, and she felt pinpricks of pain from the nails digging into the palm of her hands. A flood of memories washed over her.

 

…

 

Wendy was the school’s It Girl. She was popular, the captain of her school’s soccer and basketball teams, and also a co-president of the glee club. Wendy sat at the throne of the high school’s pecking order, and her innumerous and persistent admirers were a testament to Wendy’s influence over the population.

 

She never used her popularity maliciously, though. She used it to promote the glee club, to encourage the ‘outcast’ kids to take risks and be social, and conversed with everyone possible. Irene  _ hated _ her for it. 

 

One day, in the fall, Irene was sitting alone in the courtyard at lunch, sitting under her favorite tree’s canopy. She had a book cracked open and was reading diligently, this escape from the ruckus of her classes was much appreciated. Her best (and only) friend, Seulgi, didn’t usually join her, but rather was found at one of the meetings for the clubs she always chattered on about. Not that Irene minded, of course.

 

So today, she sat alone, the crisp breeze in the air putting Irene at ease. It was days like this that she wished would stay under  _ her _ tree and read forever. 

 

She glanced up from her book to examine the other students. There were a lot she didn’t recognize, she was a junior now and didn’t pay attention to the kids in her own grade, nevertheless the younger kids. Her eyes scanned through the courtyard, stopping at an umbrella-covered table where Wendy and her closest friends sat.

 

Irene  _ hated  _ her.

 

She hated her stupid auburn hair that danced in the breeze, the stupid and bright grin on her face, and her beautiful and melodious laugh. But most of all, Irene hated how Wendy was already looking at her.

  
_ Doesn’t she have a life? Why is she staring at me? _ Irene thinks. Irene breaks eye contact with Wendy to roll her eyes, and returns her gaze to the book in front of her. She tried to will away the creeping blush on her face, masking her features with a grimace.

 

God she  _ hated  _ Wendy.

 

…

 

A few weeks had passed, but Irene was still sitting under her tree, her legs fanned out comfortably, this time a textbook in her hands. She highlighted futilely at the words she just wouldn’t understand (history was never her strongest subject), and sighed. She continued to reread the same paragraph about the storming of the bastille before she was interrupted by a soft kick to her shin.

 

She looked up, anger painting her features to glare at whoever was stupid enough to interrupt her from studying AND kick her.

 

It was Wendy.

 

The younger girl smiled at her, and extended a book to Irene. Irene could only watch her, confused by the sudden gift.

 

“Well you aren’t gonna make me beg are you?” Wendy said, a smirk on her face. She jerked the book in her hand teasingly, motioning for Irene to grab it.

 

“Beg.” Irene quipped, returning her rather unamused gaze back to her history textbook.

 

Wendy laughed, a full and resonant cackle that startled Irene from her reading. She looked up at Wendy, who was still smiling. Irene shot an upturned brow at her, abstaining from giving in to Wendy’s goading.

 

“Please?” Wendy whined, her lip jutted out in a rather disgustingly cute pout. Irene huffed and seized the book from the younger girl, her hand blazing from the way her fingers grazed over Wendy’s.

 

Wendy’s face relaxed as Irene grabbed the book from her grasp, the older woman not even giving it a look before she tossed it onto the grass beside her.

 

Irene refused to look at Wendy, the blush on her cheeks seeming to make a permanent home on her face.

 

Wendy hummed happily, and her light footsteps on the grass had let Irene know she was safe to finally look at whatever book Wendy was  _ stupid _ enough to give her. 

 

Stupid, generous girl with her stupid beaming smile.

 

Irene dared to steal a quick glance at the book. Pride and Prejudice. An interesting choice, that’s for sure.

 

…

 

It was after Christmas break, and Irene had returned to school, almost joyous to return to her routine of sitting outside and reading. She would never get bored of it. It was a little colder than she was used to, but she would get over it.

 

Her knees were bent to support the algebra textbook that splayed open in front of her. She had made sure to hide the other book she was reading, Pride and Prejudice, within the textbook. There was NO way she would let that idiot get the satisfaction of watching her enjoy the gift.

 

To Irene’s dismay, her utter fascination with the book had left her defenses down. She jumped when she heard a loud plop on the ground next to her.

 

“You like it?” The voice questioned, and Irene immediately pegged it as Wendy’s.

 

Irene whipped to face the younger girl, who was smirking knowingly as her eyes traveled from the book and back to Irene’s gaze. Irene was incredibly irked that Wendy was unfazed by her attempts at intimidation.

 

Irene only grunted in response, reading the same few words over and over again, ignoring her until Wendy would get the message that her presence was unwanted. Irene sat in uncomfortable silence, but Wendy seemed rather unbothered, and Irene darted her eyes to catch a quick peek at the younger woman. She was fiddling idly with the grass, and Irene realized she would have to be the one to say something. 

 

“What?” Irene questioned, leaving her response as short as humanly possible.

 

Wendy turned to look at her.

 

“Aren’t you cold?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there were a lot fewer kids outside today. Her soft voice amplified the relative silence. 

 

Irene shook her head.

 

“Why do you care?”

 

“Take this.” Wendy said, in a short manner that parroted Irene’s snippy responses.

 

Wendy blanketed her jacket over Irene’s lap, careful not to cover her books. Irene blushed furiously, and tried to stutter out a refusal to Wendy, but words failed her. She sat blankly as Wendy stood up, and smiled at her. The warmth in her smile made Irene unreasonably hot, as if the warmth from her smile had penetrated Irene’s defenses.

 

“Don’t catch a cold, Irene.” Wendy said, walking away without another word.

 

Irene watched her walk inside, to where her friends were.

 

_ Why is she being so nice to me? _

 

…

 

Irene walked home that night wearing Wendy’s beige cardigan. She traveled in a cloud of vanilla and lavender. It was intoxicating. She was a little giddier than normal, (she wasn’t sure why) but it didn’t last long.

 

“I’m home, Mom!” Irene sing-songs, slipping off her shoes at the door.

 

“IRENE GET OVER HERE!” Her mother screeches, and she can hear her little sister, Yeri, crying.

  
Irene immediately starts to panic, inhaling deep breaths of vanilla that calmed her momentarily. She sprints to the living room, where Yeri is crying on the floor, their mother towering over her.

 

“Do you know anything about this?” Her mother seethes, pointing to the TV. It’s paused, and there’s an animated gay couple on screen, holding hands. Irene had warned Yeri about it before, that their mother would be mad if she found out that Yeri was watching… that… but she evidently had not heeded Irene’s advice. 

 

“I- I don’t know, Mom.” Irene responds, her voice shaky. Her heart aches for Yeri, who’s still trembling on the floor, tears staining her face.

 

Her mother walked over to Irene and jabbed her finger into Irene’s chest.

 

“Don’t you EVER let her watch that again. Where the hell did she even find that?” Her mother says, forcing her finger deeper into the cavity in Irene’s chest.

 

“I don’t know, Mom.” Irene repeats, hoping the swell of panic and fear in her chest isn’t detected by her mother.

 

“I have to go to work. If either of you brings that nonsense into my house again you will NOT be welcome back. Remember that.” Her mother finishes, getting in one last jab for effect. The clacking of heels echoes through the house. The door slams, and Irene immediately cradles a still crying Yeri in her arms.

 

…

 

Irene had comforted Yeri until she had fallen asleep, assuring her that she did nothing wrong, that it was their mother that was acting unreasonably. Yeri sniffled and cried throughout the night, not saying anything to Irene.

 

Once Yeri had drifted off, Irene snuck back to her own room. She laid on her bed and cried, staring blankly at the ceiling above her. 

  
She held Wendy’s cardigan to her chest, gripping it like it was a lifeline. Lavender and vanilla invaded her senses again, the only comfort in her current state.

 

God did she  _ want  _ to hate Wendy.

 

…

 

It was prom season, and Irene was irritated. Her usual solace in the courtyard was continually interrupted by loud and rowdy promposals that Irene absolutely abhorred. It was almost impossible to read, which was especially annoying considering that she was almost finished with Pride and Prejudice.

 

She flipped the page irately, reading through the first paragraph before she was interrupted. There was a pregnant silence in the courtyard. It was ominous, even.

 

Irene looked up, and saw Wendy, across the courtyard, holding a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. A beaming grin was plastered on her face, and there were people around her holding signs. They all walked towards Irene.

  
Her heart was beating in her ears, and all the oxygen in her lungs seemed to dissipate.   
  
Written on the signs was:

 

“Irene, Prom?”

 

The vanilla and lavender on the cardigan she was wearing was asphyxiating. Irene stood up, and without a thought, ran. She ran and ran.    
  
Her memory blacked out, but she found herself locked in the girl’s restroom, hyperventilating. Her fingers clutched at the cardigan, enveloping Irene in the all too familiar concoction of vanilla. She counted out her breaths, her eyes closed, as she attempted to calm herself down.

 

She hears the door open, the creak echoing off of white tile.

 

“Irene?” The voice was small, and laced with guilt.

 

“Get out.” Irene growled through clenched teeth, the pinpricks of hot tears making themselves known. 

 

“Irene please.. I’m sorry.” Wendy continues, her footsteps soft and unsure towards the stall that Irene was shut in.

 

“I said GET OUT. You stupid d-dyke.” Her mouth fumbling on the last word. She didn’t want to say it, but she wanted Wendy to stop bothering her. Forever.

 

Wendy inhaled sharply, and huffed. She stomped out of the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her.

 

Irene couldn’t hold it back anymore. She cried until the final school bell rang, walking home cradling Wendy’s cardigan and thinking of what could have been, if Wendy were a boy.

 

…

 

And now here Irene stands in front of her high school crush, the one she had called a homophobic slur, and who probably hated her guts. For all Wendy knew, Irene hated her too, so there was no use dropping the facade now.

 

Wendy was just as beautiful as Irene remembered her to be. Soft doe eyes framed by wispy bangs, except they were dirty blonde now.

 

“How are you doing, homophobe?” Wendy says, shooting a glare at Irene. She was leaned up against her door, trying to make herself look bigger.

  
“You look stupid trying to make yourself look taller,  _ Seungwan _ .” Irene says, emphasizing the woman’s other name.

 

Wendy scrunched her face up menacingly, and was preparing a response, but Irene butted in before she could.

 

“And I’m not a homophobe, I just didn’t know how to get you to leave me alone. I’m straight.” Irene lies.

 

Wendy puts her hands on her hips, her mouth open to form a response before Irene cuts in again.

 

“Sorry.” she spits out, crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

Wendy sighs loudly.

 

“Can I speak now?”

 

Irene refuses to respond.

 

“Irene, I know you’re not straight, first of all.”

 

Irene narrows her eyes in response, daring Wendy to continue. Wendy, as usual, is unfazed, and only shoots up a brow before continuing.

 

“But would you like to come in for cookies,  _ Joohyun?”  _ Wendy offers. Despite extending her courtesies to Irene, she still looks angry, and Irene couldn’t blame her. Irene refuses to move, gesture, or speak. 

 

Wendy sighs and waves her in, Irene following her reluctantly.

 

The apartment was well decorated. It was homey, and color coordinated throughout the house. A menagerie of knick knacks, high school trophies, and assorted memorabilia littered the shelves. 

 

Wendy lead her to the small dining room table, with enough room for four. Wendy pulled out her own chair with a grating screech, and sat with her hands clasped, waiting for Irene to sit down. The plate of cookies on the table smelled mesmerizing, an aromatic mix of Wendy’s trademark vanilla and fresh baked cookies. The familiar smellr was oddly comforting in the new surroundings Irene found herself in.

 

Irene pulled out the chair across from Wendy gently, trying to avoid the scratching sound Wendy’s own chair had made. Irene sat and stared at the cookies.

 

“Take one.” Wendy said.

 

Irene was taken aback by the lack of Wendy’s typically bubbly personality. She expected it of course, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t unsettling.   
  
Irene took a cookie, and bit into it. The cookies were so fresh that the insides were still gooey and impossibly warm. And damn were they good.

 

“Eh.” Irene says, shrugging her shoulders.

 

Wendy visibly tenses, it’s obvious she’s not used to hearing anything but the best.

 

“You must not have taste, then.” Wendy says, an hint of annoyance in her tone. She grabs one of the cookies, and takes a bite.

 

“Hmm… Well then I guess I was wrong for liking you back in high school then? Since I have no taste?” Irene counters.

 

Wendy chokes on her cookie, an amused grin spreading on Irene’s face. Once Wendy regains her composure, her brows furrow and she rests her chin on the palm of her hand.

 

“That doesn’t explain why you denied me in front of the whole school and then called me a dyke though, now does it, Joohyun?” Wendy says, malice in her tone.

 

“It doesn’t need to be explained.” Irene says, voice taut. “Now are we going to discuss being roommates or is that off the table?”

 

Wendy frowns. “I’m fine with you living here. It’s not like we have to talk to each other, considering how short you’re already being.”

 

“I don’t need a friend. I need a place to live.” Irene says.

 

They both awkwardly chomp on the remainder of the cookies, when Irene speaks up again.

 

“If you’re going to, I’d just rather you deny me now than later.I can’t afford to be house searching in the middle of the semester because you don’t wanna deal with me anymore. You already managed to get me kicked out of one house.” Irene says, inspecting the tips of her fingernails boredly.

 

“What?” Wendy says, her voice betraying her guilt and confusion.

 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Irene starts tapping her fingernails on the table anxiously.

 

“Yeah well your stupid little stunt back in junior year got me kicked out of my house by my homophobic mother.” Irene’s voice shakes with the last syllables.

 

Wendy looks down, refusing to make eye contact with Irene.

 

The silence was deafening.

 

“I’m sorry Joohyun..” Wendy trails off.

 

“It’s the past. I just need somewhere to live, now.” Irene finished, snippier than she intended.

 

“I understand. You can move in next week, if that’s convenient.” There’s a pause. “Joohyun I truly am so sor-” 

 

“I’d like to forget it.” Irene interrupted. She stood from her chair, the grating of its four legs on linoleum making Wendy wince.

 

Irene shouldered her purse, and walked towards the door.

  
“I’ll see you next week, Wendy.”

 

She slammed the door behind her and made a beeline for her car. She didn’t want to look at Wendy right now, or even risk her coming after Irene.

 

Irene pulled out of the parking spot and drove away, the tears in her eyes masking her vision.  She thinks about her past, about Wendy, and about all the things she would have changed. And she thinks about how she possibly just made the biggest mistake of her life, becoming roommates with the girl she might still have feelings for, after all these years.


	3. Chapter 3

The next week had passed quickly. Irene hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye to her roommates, opting instead to leave a short note.

 

“ _Goodbye._

_-Bae Joohyun_

_(Please don’t contact me)”_

 

(She wasn’t really one for words, or sappy goodbyes.)

 

She had recruited Seulgi and her pickup truck to make the move to Wendy’s place. All of Irene’s very scattered belongings had fit in the bed of the truck in one ride. Irene always packed light, and Seulgi knew why.

 

…

 

The day of her promposal gone awry, Irene had walked into her worst nightmare. Her mind was especially foggy that day, and upon opening the front door, all of her belongings were packed and arranged in a messy pile. Her fingers trembled as she rifled through the things crowding the small hallway.

 

“M-Mom?” Irene quavers.

 

There’s no one home. The shoes that are usually by the door are gone.

 

Irene finds a note attached to the suitcase.

 

“ _I know what happened today. Leave while you have the chance, and don’t ever come back.”_

 

Irene’s eyes filled with more tears, but she hurried to gather her things and compose herself, shooting a quick text to Seulgi. She was desperate.

  
Seulgi responded that she was on the way, and Irene trudged around her childhood home, taking a last look at everything before she had to leave. Her hand shook intensely as she opened the door to her room. What wasn’t packed in that suitcase or otherwise moved was destroyed. Posters ripped off of the wall, broken glass from photo frames, and bedsheets all wildly thrown around the room.

 

Irene held back a choked sob and closed the door, her phone ringing from Seulgi’s call. She didn’t bother to answer, she just grabbed whatever she could of her belongings and ran out the front door. Seulgi was crying, too. She hopped out of her car and helped Irene organize her things in the truck bed, wordlessly.

 

A familiar car pulled into the driveway, adjacent to Seulgi’s truck. Irene hopped into the passenger seat of the pickup, and shrunk into herself as she waited for Seulgi to walk back around to the front of the truck.

 

She heard her mother shouting, knowing full well that Irene was hiding in the truck.

 

“Get out of here, you fucking dyke! You aren’t welcome here anymore. Don’t bother contacting us EVER again.”

 

Irene couldn’t cry anymore. Her stomach ached, and her head was pounding. She didn’t want to stay any longer. Seulgi hopped into her truck, and wiped the tears from her own face before attentively brushing Irene’s hair away from her eyes. Irene felt the cardigan she had been tangling her fingers through get draped over her, and Seulgi’s soft voice invaded the cavernous silence.

 

“Rest, Irene.”

 

Seulgi drove away, and Irene couldn’t look back.

  
A hollow sense of emptiness filled her chest as Seulgi drove, and drove.   
  
Irene never went back.

 

…

 

For the second time in her life, Irene packed away her life onto the bed of Seulgi’s truck. Irene felt a gnawing at the pit of her stomach that was screaming at her to turn around, to go back to being uncomfortable with strangers than deal with the ghosts of her past.

 

Irene closed the liftgate, and tapped the back of the truck, giving a Seulgi a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. Irene kicks the gravel in her path as she walks to the passenger’s side, and clambers through the open door.   
  
Seulgi smiles at her, her eyes dripping warmth.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Hyun?”

 

Irene nods tersely, forcing a smile. “Small world, huh?”

 

Seulgi hums in response.

 

“Yeah, of all the people in the world, Wendy Shon? That’s crazy.”

  
“She goes by Son Seungwan now, actually.”

 

“Did she say why?”

 

Irene shakes her head, and turns to look at Seulgi, who’s absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music playing in the background.

 

“Do you think I’ll be okay, Seul? Is this the dumbest thing I’ve ever done?”

 

Seulgi laughs, “No I think the dumbest thing you’ve ever done involved drunk-calling Papa John’s and asking to put, and I quote ‘Papa Pizza Guy’ on the phone.”

 

Irene grimaces at the memory and slaps Seulgi playfully.

 

“You definitely over-vodka’ed the vodka sodas that night, Seul.”

 

Seulgi laughs again, “Maybe so, Hyun.”

 

The girls drive in relative silence until they arrive at the complex. Seulgi pulls into the same spot Irene pulled into the week before, as Irene’s car was already parked in the new ‘tenant’ spot, and puts the truck in park. Both women unbuckle, but Seulgi takes Irene’s hands in hers before they exit the car.

 

“Listen, if this doesn’t work out, you always have a home with me.”

 

“I know, thank you Seul.” Irene says, kissing the backs of Seulgi’s hands, a tender smile spreading on her face.

 

Seulgi returns her smile, and both women exit the truck.

 

They’re trying to organize a game-plan for unloading Irene’s belongings when a very concerned Wendy charges over to where they’re standing.

 

“Oh please, let me help with that… No reason you two have to carry this all alone…” Wendy rambles, her voice seemingly an octave higher.

 

“You aren’t gonna be able to do much heavy lifting with a stick up your ass, Seungwan.” Irene deadpans, grabbing back the lamp that Wendy had taken from the truck bed.

 

“How’d you even reach that, shortie?” Irene continues, dusting off the spots where Wendy’s hands had been holding the lamp.

 

Seulgi stifles a laugh, faking a cough as Wendy stands with her arms crossed, a rather goofy looking attempt at anger cascading over her face.

 

Irene grins at the younger woman, deepening the scowl on Wendy’s face. Wendy shifts her gaze to Seulgi, who’s still suppressing laughter.

 

“Seulgi, hi! How have you been?” she says, rushing over to Seulgi and enveloping her in a bear hug. Seulgi ruffles her hair condescendingly.

 

“Been great, Wen.”

 

Irene knew that Seulgi didn’t have any particular issues with Wendy in high school, but they battled over club leadership positions often. Both women were far too humble and kind to succumb to the temptation of feeding their egos, but it was still high school after all. And needless to say, Seulgi was still a little wary around Wendy, given all that had happened with Irene.

 

However, ever the kind soul, Seulgi smiled brightly at Wendy, pushing her away as kindly as possible, so as not to make things more awkward than they already were.

 

“Can you help me with the wardrobe, Wen?” Seulgi said, pointing to it.

  
Wendy blushed at the nickname, and Irene wanted to gouge her eyes out.

 

“Yeah! Of course, Seulgi,” Wendy smiled just as brightly at Seulgi.

 

The two women grunted and huffed as they carried the wardrobe to the apartment, Irene rolling her eyes and grabbing some boxes in the back.

 

It took a solid 2 hours before they had unpacked everything, and Seulgi insisted on staying and helping Irene set up her room, to Irene’s vehement denial.

  
She had shooed Seulgi away, giving her a hug (and slipping $50 in her pocket in the process) as a thank you. She waved Seulgi goodbye, and walked into _her_ apartment.

 

…

 

Irene took off her shoes and walked past the kitchen, a tantalizing aroma of meat and spices pulling her in. She craned her neck to see what Wendy was cooking.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Dinner.”

 

Irene stared at the back of Wendy’s head. So _annoying._

 

“Never would have guessed, Chef Ramsay.”

 

Wendy whipped around to face Irene, her face red from bending over the stovetop, and also in what Irene assumes is frustration.

 

Wendy forces a smile, her teeth set in annoyance.

  
“Well if you must know, it’s for my guest. And you, if you stop being such a _bad girl_.” Wendy said, teasingly drawing out the last words.

 

Irene tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.

 

“And by the way, Seulgi is super adorable. Is she single?” Wendy questions.

 

Irene frowns. All she sees is green. By _no_ means should be feeling envious, but the hair on the back of her neck prickle at the insinuation.

 

“No.”

 

(Seulgi was single.)

 

“Wow, is somebody jealous? I guess I’ll have to make sure my _guest_ is extra quiet today, huh?” Wendy said, winking at Irene, who stood in placid anger.

 

“Your guest?”

 

“Oh, yeah her name’s Joy. She’s my fuckbuddy.” Wendy said, nonchalance invading her tone as she squinted to observe her simmering vegetables.

 

“So you’re trying to get laid the night I move in.”

 

Wendy hums, and stirs the vegetables once more.

 

“On most occasions I’d say yes, but she just got denied a role so I wanted to cheer her up. She’s an actress.”

 

( _How peculiar.)_

 

“But you didn’t make anything for me? Your new roommate?”

 

“I never said that. There’s carrot cake in the fridge, if you’d like.” Wendy says, turning around to smile at Irene. “It’s the least I could do.”  


Irene sets her lips in a line, forcing herself not to smile at Wendy’s kindness.

 

“Thanks, but you’re still annoying.”

 

Wendy laughs her signature wind-chime laugh that Irene refuses to admit she likes.

 

Irene walks over to the fridge, and opens the door wide. In the middle of the rather packed fridge, she spots the carrot cake.

 

“Oh, and I put your name on it for you! Cute, huh?” Wendy says, a smirk evident on her face.

 

Irene grabs the cake, and written on the top in bright pink icing is _BIG BITCH_. She sighs, and Wendy bursts into laughter.

 

“You’re impossible, Seungwan.” Irene says, placing the cake on the counter and shoving the shorter woman lightly. Wendy gasps.

  
“Excuse me? I went out of my way to bake that cake for you and you have the _audacity_ to attack me?” She says, no sign of teasing in her voice. Maybe Irene pushed her a bit too far, literally.

 

“O-oh I-” Irene stutters.

 

“You’re such an idiot, I can’t believe I ever liked you.” Wendy says, rolling her eyes and getting a dollop of icing on her pointer finger.

 

“Open up.” she continues, hovering her finger ever so close to Irene’s lips.

 

Irene’s heart beat pounded in her ears, she hoped desperately that Wendy couldn’t hear it too. Wendy’s usually light and warm brown eyes had gone a shade darker as she looked at Irene’s lips, and back to the older woman’s eyes. The pad of Wendy’s thumb probed open Irene’s lips, and she maneuvered the pink frosting to the tip of Irene’s tongue.

 

Irene locked eyes with Wendy, enveloping the younger woman’s finger with her lips and dusting her tongue lightly over the frosting. She grabbed Wendy’s wrist, and pulled her finger out of her mouth with a loud pop.

 

“It’s okay.” Irene said, feigning nonchalance as she cleaned the corners of her lips with her tongue.

 

Wendy could only stare at Irene in shock, a bright pink that rivaled the icing painting her face. Irene giggled at her.

 

“Am I still a bad girl?” Irene pouts, and bounces on the balls of her feet. Teasing Wendy was just too enticing.

 

“U-uh no I guess not.” Wendy says, her cheeks still bright pink. She averts eye contact and rubs the back of her neck nervously.

  
Irene laughs and turns around, heading to finish unpacking and assembling her room.

 

...

 

Irene raced out of her room once she heard the doorbell, assuming it was Wendy’s _guest_.

  
“I got it Wendy!” Irene screeches, almost slipping on the linoleum in the midst of her race to the door.

 

Irene opens the door hastily, faced with a tall and gorgeous woman smiling at her. Her hair was short, and a beautiful deep chestnut brown, her sharp features highlighted by minimal makeup and a wide smile.

 

“Hi! Are you Irene?”

 

“Yeah, but pretty girls can call me Joohyun.” she smiles, extending her hand and pulling the woman inside.

 

The taller woman giggles lightly.

 

“Well hi Joohyun, I’m Joy.”

 

Wendy stomps out of the kitchen, her bangs plastered to her face from sweat. She had been slaving over the stove all afternoon while Irene finished her own tasks.

 

“Hi Joy, hi _Joohyun._ ” she says, smiling at Joy and grimacing at Irene.

 

“Who said that you could call me that?” Irene sneers.

 

Wendy’s mouth opens in shock, and she pulls Joy from Irene’s grasp.

  
“And this is why I frosted your cake as Big Bitch.” Wendy says, pulling Joy down to kiss her cheek.

 

Irene’s chest prickles once again. She pretends it isn’t jealousy, and blames it on the public display of affection instead, rolling her eyes and huffing.

  
“You hungry? I made your favorite.” Wendy says, brushing strands of hair out of Joy’s eyes, who slaps at her hands playfully.

 

“Stop doting over me Wan, I’m not your girlfriend.”

 

Irene smirks.

 

“Why do you look so happy about that, Joohyun?” Wendy counters, leaning out of Joy’s vision to squint a confused glare at Irene.

 

Irene only laughs. “Joy’s a keeper. Anyone that makes you look that stupid deserves an award!” She cackles, clapping Joy on the back lightly.

 

Joy laughs too, and points a finger gun at Irene.

 

“Oh Wen I like her! You better watch it, maybe I’ll just come over and fuck her instead!” Joy teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

 

“Ha ha, very funny.” Wendy squeaks out, exasperated by how quickly Irene and Joy seem to be getting along. She waved her spatula at them tiredly. “Dinner is on the table.”

 

Joy squealed and booked it for the dinner table, leaving Irene and Wendy alone in the hallway.

 

“She’s sweet.” Irene says, a bashful smile on her face.

 

Wendy nods. “We’ve been friends for a while. To be honest though I might be cutting off the ‘benefits’ part of our relationship, though.”

 

Irene hums and bites her lip to keep from smiling.

 

“I can see why, you guys seem too friendly for _that_ kind of intimacy. Her loss though, you’ve got a great ass.” Irene says, squeezing Wendy’s shoulder lightly before she attempts to walk away, Wendy catching her wrist on the way over to the table.

 

“You know, for hating me, you sure don’t seem to act the part.” Wendy says, a flustered look on her face.

 

Irene smirks, and wrenches Wendy’s fingers from her wrist.

  
“Isn’t Joy the actress here?”

…

 

Joy was seated at the head of the table, loudly slurping on her noodles when Irene and Wendy had walked in together. She lifted her head up, acknowledging them before returning to her food.

 

“It’s good, Wen.” she says, spraying broth everywhere.

 

Irene snorts at the pained expression on Wendy’s face, which is grimacing at the mess.

 

“Joy…” she sighs, fingers massaging her temples.

 

“Oh lighten up, Wendy. I’ll clean up your _girlfriend’s_ mess up later.” Irene says.

 

Wendy and Joy donned twin expressions, their eyes bulging and eyebrows reaching their hairline.

 

“NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!” they both yelped.

 

“There’s a reason why Wendy’s been single her whole life.” Joy says, snorting in unison with Joohyun. Irene sat down across from Wendy, who refused to give them a reaction.

 

“Still caught up on me, Wendy?” Irene says, winking at her from across the table.

  
Wendy, who was slurping up her noodles when Irene had posed her question, dropped her chopsticks and began hacking and coughing. Joy slapped her hand on the table, laughing shrilly as Wendy tried to regain her breath and simultaneously clean up her mess.

 

Irene laughed along with Joy, but her mind was whirring. Why did she react so impulsively? Irene was distracted by Wendy, once again, who was still choking on her noodles.

 

Irene pushed herself up from her chair, leaning over the small table to inspect Wendy, ultimately rushing to her side. Joy was starting to get nervous too, following in Irene’s footsteps and kneeling beside the woman.

  
“Wendy?”

  
“Seungwan?” Irene pressed on, rubbing the younger woman’s back, which was convulsing with every cough.

 

“Joy help me lift her up.”

 

Joy did as told, and Irene hugged Wendy from behind and attempted to do the Heimlich. With every compress, Wendy seemed to cough less, finally hacking up a long string of noodles.

 

Wendy turned around and steadied herself with both hands gripping Irene’s shoulders like a vise. Her shoulders heaved with every breath, weakly refilling her lungs with air.

 

Joohyun was scared at how relieved she was. As usual, she decided not to think too hard about it. Tried to not think about the heat seeping through her skin where Wendy’s fingers were, and tried not to think about how despite the situation, how snug Wendy’s body had fit into her own.

 

“I really still affect you like that, Wendy? After all these years? Move on already!” Irene said, an panicked but malicious undertone in her words.

  
Wendy brought her eyes to look at Joohyun’s, and Wendy’s eyes pooled with hurt. She squeezed Joohyun’s shoulders excessively before letting go.

 

“Do you really have to be such an asshole all the time?” she seethed, the wounded look in her eyes sending frigid ice down Irene’s spine.

 

Wendy pushed her away, and retreated into her own room, loudly slamming and locking the door behind her.  
  
All Irene could do was watch her go. Again.

 

A wave of nausea washed over her, thinking about the time where she cried in the girl’s bathroom, pushing Wendy away came second nature at this point.

 

_Maybe some things don’t change._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!!! wow its been awhile... :') i've been super busy trying to adjust to college and whatnot so i haven't gotten the chance to write or edit chapters.... and midterms are coming up. is it rlly any surprise that i'm procrastinating homework as i upload this? probably not. aksjdk. follow me on twitter @/sapphicirene for limited updates on me n my life bc whew college rlly be putting me through it LOL


	4. Chapter 4

Irene and Joy stood by the dining room table in silence, staring at the now closed door to Wendy’s bedroom in confusion. Irene’s mind was reeling. The more she got acquainted with her old flame, the more lost she got; Lost in thoughts she was far too familiar repressing. 

 

Being in the vicinity of Wendy was exhilarating, she felt alive. It was confusing and scary, and toying with the idea of not hating her, even though Irene was finally admitting to herself she never really did, was terrifying. Irene was so used to keeping her interactions with others to a fine tuned precision, as if every word she said had to be calculated, correct. Wendy made it seem like Irene was speaking in tongues.

 

Wendy, and the peculiar way she had wormed her way into Irene’s life, was throwing the older girl for a loop. It felt natural  _ not  _ to think around Wendy. For once in her life, Irene was scared of the feelings she had rather than the feelings she repressed. And once Wendy had walked away again, the familiar stab of disappointment and regret making itself known in her heart, Irene had made up her mind.

 

No matter what she felt for Wendy, (because the haze of sudden and strong, foreign emotion was plaguing her mind) she would never let her leave. Irene was tired of running, and Wendy was the metaphorical end to the race. 

 

Joy cleared her throat, snapping Irene out of her sudden introspection.

 

“Uh- Wendy usually likes to be left alone when she gets that upset so-” Joy trailed off, grabbing her purse and shooting an apologetic smile at Irene as she put her dirty dish in the sink with a loud clang.

  
Irene watched Joy walk out of the front door, closing it gently behind her. Irene slumped against Wendy’s door, sighing loudly to let Wendy know she wouldn’t budge. She waited a few minutes before speaking up.

  
“Can we please talk, Seungwan?”

 

“Since when do you want to talk, nevertheless about  _ feelings. _ ” 

 

Irene paused, choosing for once in her life not to make a snippy comment and build up her walls even further.

  
“I’m tired of this.”

 

“Of what?”

 

Irene sighs deeply again, forcing her thumbs deep into her temples and cradling her head in her hands.

 

“Look, I don’t know, okay? I just hate how awkward this is.”

 

“Me too.” Wendy responds, a little more feebly than before.

 

“I’m sorry for being an ass. Can we finish dinner please?”

 

There’s a pause, as if Wendy is thinking over her options.

 

“And why would I do that?”

 

“Because I’m asking you nicely. It would be a shame to waste all that food.”

 

Irene hears soft pads of feet and the lock on the door clicks open quietly. Irene stands, getting out of the way of the door. Wendy’s eyes are glazed over with unshed tears, and Irene’s heart drops in her stomach.

 

“I’m sorry.” she says again, looking down at her feet. 

 

“Can we just eat?” Wendy says quietly. It’s obvious she’s avoiding any conversation.

 

Irene silently walks to the table, and begins eating her noodles, even though they’d gone cold already. The only noises heard were the slurps of noodles and clinks of glassware on the table. Irene purposefully prolongs eating; she wants to see what Wendy will do.

 

Irene peeks up from her chopsticks to see Wendy in the kitchen, placing her now empty bowl by Joy’s. Irene was curious as to why Wendy hadn’t asked about Joy at all, weren’t they supposed to be friends? She tries to push her luck.

 

“Aren’t you gonna ask why Joy left?”    
  


Wendy looks up from the dishes to look at Irene, a sad smile scrawled over her lips.

 

“I’m used to her leaving.”

 

_ Ouch.  _

 

Irene’s not sure what to say, so she takes a sip of water before scooting her chair away from the table, and moving around Wendy to place her dishes in the sink.

 

“Washer or dryer?” Irene says, not bothering to look at the younger girl.

 

“Huh?”

  
“The dishes. Do you want to wash them or dry them?”

 

“Oh. I’ll wash them.” she says, clearly surprised that Irene offered her help.

 

They worked in silence, and rather diligently, because Wendy had torn half of the kitchen up preparing their dinner for the night. It took longer than Irene expected, and the work was excruciating, purely because she’d get distracted every time Wendy’s slim fingers would graze her own. Irene wrung out the dish towel with a grunt, and threw it on the counter tiredly. 

 

“Thank you.” Wendy says bashfully.

 

“Of course.”

 

Irene begins to walk away, but is stopped by a quiet stutter from Seungwan.

  
“I-I..” she stops.

 

Irene turns around, and places her hand on the side of Seungwan’s arm, urging her to continue.

 

“I- usually watch this drama, it’s kinda stupid, but if you wanna watch it, uh” she coughs awkwardly, “with m-me, you can. It’s coming on soon.”

 

“Oh! Is it Flowers for the Mistress?” Irene says, a wide smile spreading on her face.

 

“Yeah, do you watch it too?” Wendy questions, the shocked expression on her face morphing into one of amusement. 

 

“I might’ve skipped out on finishing papers to hate-watch it.” Irene admits.

 

Irene smiles at Wendy, nodding her head in the direction of the TV.

 

Wendy laughs meekly, grabbing Irene’s wrist and pulling her to the couch on the other end of the apartment. Irene is uncomfortably warm, she hates how much Wendy’s touch seeps right through her.

 

Wendy sits on one side of the couch, Irene on the opposite. Despite a found commonality between them, the air was still rife with tension from dinner, and not to mention their past, which neither woman seems too insistent on bringing up.

  
They watch the show together, and Irene makes snide comments throughout the exhausting hour-long program.

 

(She wouldn’t admit to herself she was doing it to hear Wendy laugh.)

 

When the end credits started rolling, Irene stole a glance at Wendy, who was unseasonably quiet as compared to when they had started the show. Her neck was limp on the armchair of the sofa, her mouth open and eyes closed gently.

 

_ She’s  _ _ pretty _ _ , annoying, even when she’s sleeping.  _ Irene debates leaving her on the couch for the night, but when her eyes graze over Seungwan’s sleeping form for a third time and she sees the younger woman shiver, her resolve breaks.

 

Irene stood from the couch as quietly as possible, and snuck into her room, grabbing an extra blanket from one of her moving boxes. She tiptoed back to the living room, and draped the purple blanket over Wendy cautiously, so as not to wake her up. Wendy stirred a bit, moving only to nuzzle into the blanket further. Irene’s breath caught in her throat.

 

_ So annoying. _

 

She decided to turn in for the night, staring at her ceiling. The image of Wendy burrowing into Irene’s purple blanket burned into her mind, playing itself over and over on the white ceiling like a movie screen.

 

Irene had never felt more confused in her life.

 

…

 

It was early when Irene woke up, especially considering she hadn’t slept much at all. Her mind shuffled from rambling and exhausting overthinking to blankness throughout the night. Irene had realized that maybe Wendy wasn’t so bad. Maybe. 

 

But they still needed to talk. 

 

Irene kicked her covers off of her with a flourish, and slipped her feet into her favorite slippers, the fluffy bunnies whose ears flopped when she walked. Irene stomped after putting them on, the ears moving accordingly. She smiled groggily.

 

_ That never gets old. _

 

She ties her purple robe just a little tighter around her waist, and opens her door, assaulted by a variety of loud noises. Her eyebrows furrow as she follows the noise, walking almost robotically to the kitchen. Inside is Wendy, donned in her same clothes from the night before, angrily whisking a bowl of what looks like pancake batter.

 

“You got a vendetta or something?” Irene rasps, leaning against the archway into the kitchen.

  
Wendy startles, her hand tensing around the whisk and her back going visibly rigid.

 

“You scared me!” Wendy says, frowning at the older girl, who had burst into laughter.

 

“Do I really look that rough?” 

 

Wendy’s eyes bulge.

 

“No-no, I don’t think that at all!”

 

“Oh, then my raw and ephemeral beauty must have you absolutely  _ trembling  _ then?” Irene presses on, a glint in her eyes.

 

“Oh shut up already.” The younger girl fires back, a tinge of blush on her cheeks. Irene wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t hell-bent on staring her down. Wendy turns back around and continues making her pancake batter.

 

“Has anyone told you that you have a really nice butt?” Irene says, shifting her position on the door frame.

 

Wendy makes an about face, clearly embarrassed by the comment. Her face is bright red now, and she stands with her arms crossed.

 

“Yeah, you did yesterday.” She pauses, “I just wish you were this forward in high school.” Wendy finishes, quirking an eyebrow.

 

Irene sighs.

 

“Yeah, me too.”

 

There’s a noticeable downcast in the air, and the tension returned immediately.

 

“Sorry did I-” Wendy starts, but is interrupted.

 

“No. It’s fine… But in all honesty I’d like to discuss all of that. And I mean ALL of it. I’m tired of living in the past, Wendy. I don’t wanna run anymore.”

 

“Me too, Irene. Let me finish fixing this up and we can talk after breakfast?”

 

...

 

The two women ate in silence, Irene only speaking to compliment Wendy’s cooking, who only nodded her thank you in response. It was evident that both women were trying to prepare what they wanted to say, and Wendy began first. She was only halfway through her plate when she set her fork down and sniffled.

 

“Irene I’m so, SO sorry.” Her voice cracks with a sob, and Irene stops eating. She’s queasy. She refuses to say anything, letting Wendy gather her thoughts.

 

“I had no idea you weren’t out yet, or that your mother was homophobic… I got you kicked out of your HOME because I’m too selfish and I didn’t think about you.” Wendy continues, pausing occasionally to catch her breath in between cries. “No wonder you hate me.”

 

“I did.” Irene says, catching Wendy’s eyes, which are red and puffy from the tears streaming down her face.

 

“Did?”

 

“Of course I did. I was young and stupid. I could only think about myself. And yeah, it still hurts sometimes-” she pauses, “I miss Yeri so much.” She chokes a sob, before taking a deep breath and continuing to speak.

 

“So yeah, I did hate you for that. I can’t really ever go back home now, and that’s still something that weighs heavy on me. But-”

 

“But?”

  
“Let me finish. But I don’t hate you for it now. It forced me to grow up. I still have issues with repression, but it’s getting a little easier now, I think. You know, It’s weird how life works, Wan. Like you used to be the root of all my issues, forced me out of a place to live, but now, sitting here with you, it all makes sense. I’m not gonna say I believe in fate, cause that’s too cheesy for me, but it’s like I was supposed to come back and figure this all out with you.”

 

Wendy contemplates what Irene said, twirling a piece of pancake on her fork.

 

“Thank you, Irene. For giving me a second chance. Like I said, I’m so very sorry about everything. If I could take it back, I would.” Wendy says, rubbing her swollen eyes gently.

 

“I wouldn’t.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Because then we wouldn’t be here, eating breakfast in your nice apartment, reflecting on everything. Even if you were a pain in the ass most of my life, I did miss you.” Irene says, blushing and focusing her attention  _ anywhere _ but Wendy.

 

There’s a silence, but it’s comfortable this time. The air seems to be mostly clear, and when Irene looks up, Wendy is smiling at her softly, her eyes crinkled into little crescent moons.

 

“You know, it was so hard pretending to hate you, Joohyun.”

 

Irene is speechless as Wendy stands from her chair, and walks over to the older woman. Wendy is standing over her now, her arms open and the same goofy smile on her face. Irene stares up at her incredulously.

 

“Can I hug you?”

 

Irene stands up without a word, and awkwardly shuffles into Wendy’s arms.

 

Despite being shorter, Wendy manages to completely encapsulate Joohyun in her grip. Irene exhales, more relieved than she’d ever been. The inhale that followed it was cathartic. Vanilla and lavender swirled into her senses, lifting and absolving the toxins Irene had been holding in for far too long. 

 

As if in a trance, she wraps her arms around Wendy, pulling the younger girl closer into her. Wendy stifles a gasp, and Irene feels the shorter girl’s slim fingers pulling at the fabric of her shirt. There’s a pooling wetness at the crook of Irene’s neck, where Wendy had comfortably nestled her head.

 

“Wan..”

 

She pulls away enough to look at her, she’s crying softly, but a peaceful expression is settled on her features.

 

“I’ve been waiting so long for this..” Wendy says, pulling Irene back into her embrace.

 

Irene chooses not to think about what Wendy meant by that, focusing instead on the rush of heat to her ears and the sensation of soft lips on her pulse point. Irene’s breath hitches, and Wendy pulls away.

 

The crescent moons reappear, and Irene’s stomach is doing somersaults. 

 

_ Did she just kiss me?  _ Irene thinks, her mind attempting to hone in on one of the many questions flying around her jumbled headspace.

 

“Thank you, Hyunnie.”

 

Irene is planted to the ground as she watches Wendy pick up her plate and walk to the kitchen.

  
The concept of  _ not  _ ‘hating’ Wendy, of  _ not  _ hiding her feelings, of  _ not  _ letting lies and fallacy rule her life, was terrifying. But here it was, standing in front of her, unearthed from within her like an artifact. It was scary, but for the first time in her life, Irene was ready to embrace change, but only if it came in the form of a 5 foot tall blonde woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well.. its been a while... :o


End file.
